


Gilded cage

by kalika_999



Series: Stucky AU One Shots [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, Paranoia, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 11:10:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19392913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: There was something not quite right about the mirror.





	Gilded cage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [outruntheavalanche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/outruntheavalanche/gifts).



> I decided to take a stab at your listing of "horror of any stripe" and try out a psychological horror, and as such, offer my first of two treats. :)

The power was out again and Bucky griped about how he told Steve there was something problematic about moving into a house as old and stuffy as this one.

The floor groaned beneath him as he passed through the corridor in the darkness, the steady drip of water from the guest bathroom led him to the one place he hated to be, his phone illuminating the space before him.

It was the mirror there that got to him, the one Steve promised they’d get rid of.   


There was something not quite right about it and it gave him the creeps.

He had been staring at it for quite some time now, the moonlight falling into the hall through one of the windows and it was just enough to show him the details of his reflection. At first he thought it was nothing, just his mind playing tricks despite how it kept doing that to him.  


Something was definitely off.   


It was almost like one of those optical illusions. The more you look at it, the harder it is to see what's wrong. And yet you can't look away, every time you do, you catch _it_ out of the corner of your eye.   


It wasn't right.   


He squinted his eyes a little as he furrowed his brows. The frame was normal. The glass was normal. Everything appeared to be normal. Everything but one specific thing.

That one thing that he just couldn't pinpoint.

He took a step backwards after turning the knob of the tap and ending that ongoing distracting sound while refusing to take his gaze from the mirror. He'd been unpacking boxes, waiting for Steve to get home and now his hands were feeling clammy, weird.   


There was a wrongness. None of the other mirrors were like this. _Off_. It was like it never belonged here in the first place.  


The dread just wouldn't go away.   


Of course this could just be nothing; he sometimes got spooked by his own shadow, maybe hallucinated this or that, it came with the territory of being him. He told Steve to go on his own, he could handle it, he was a big boy that just happened to get hyper-fixated on some random antique and soon his boyfriend would walk in through the front door and explain it off like he always did with that humored smile across his lips and a wink of light-hearted teasing that he brought with him.   


Yeah, the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like something dumb on his part.

Steve would make it better, he always did.

He narrowed his eyes one last time before he reluctantly tore his gaze away and turned back towards the hall to retrieve his phone. As he scrolled through his contacts, he kept glancing back at the mirror. Just to make sure there wasn’t anything fishy happening. He knew it was silly. It was just a fucking old mirror, but something inside him only coiled tighter, reflexes in the ready to fight or flee and never come back.

It was like he was being watched all this time, even if he knew that was impossible. He made sure of that with the sweeps.

Not that he should be thinking about things like that, after all it was all taken care of. There were _assurances_ and he’d faced a lot worse for Christ's sake. _This was a mirror._ Besides, even if he was scared, it didn't matter. It would all be fine when they removed it.

The phone only rang three times before Steve answered it, his voice a little withdrawn, tired. “Hello?”

Just the sound of Steve on its own drew out a bit of comfort inside of Bucky, even if he still kept looking back over his shoulder warily. “Steve? The power’s out again and that d- ”

Loud static answered him back and he winced, pulling the phone away from his ear.

“Hello? Anyone there?”

“In what century are you gonna finally put my damn name in your contacts, huh? Practically married and you can’t do a simple job like that, wait until Nat finds out.” He rolled his eyes with a frustrated huff. “And this fucking house, the reception must be shit right now. Only you’d want a place in the middle of Nowhere, USA.” He shook the cellphone as if that would have made a difference. “Steve? Can you hear me?”

“If someone’s speaking, I can’t hear you. Hello? Sam?”

“Why the fuck would you ask for Wilson before _me_.” He was affronted at the very idea. Pawing a hand through his hair, Bucky gave up. “Call me back!”

Just as he stabbed his finger onto the screen to end the call, the hairs stood up at the back of his neck the second it happened, something moved.

He sharply turned, heart thumping against his chest.

The mirror.

He felt a cold chill slide up his back, as if someone stood behind him but when he looked, there was obviously nothing. Turning back entirely towards the mirror, fear quietly crept in and he struggled with the grip he weakly held on with reality.

Goosebumps ran all across his body as he stared. Everything was the same. So very much the same, it was almost frustrating. Was his head not as fine as he thought it was? Was there some kind of trick going on? He swallowed down the tightness in his throat, the phone clenched in his fist.

“What the hell’s goin’ on?” He murmured to himself.

He stepped toward the mirror, just barely. Eyes skirted across the frame again, metal fingers twitching in anxiousness, and he approached a bit closer. Something had changed, he was almost sure of it. It was just that he still couldn’t figure out what exactly it was.

A growing dread washed over him and he noticed the ripple in his reflection, barely there like an absent tear no one should actually catch. But he does.  


Maybe it didn’t really matter. Maybe only _he_ shouldn’t see it. But he did, he definitely noticed that it was him or whatever was looking back.

Because it was his reflection that shifted, had changed.

The same one that wasn’t there anymore he realized as he took a long look, wasn’t staring back at him anymore and yet beckoned him in closer towards the long endless void.


End file.
